Not Meant For Me
by Dark Hope Assassin
Summary: Redoing! Fate mocks two souls created for one another by making them brother and sister. Will they get used to the fact they can't be together... or is their love stronger than morals and beliefs? BV VERY AU.
1. Chapter One

**Not Meant For Me**

_By Dark Hope Assassin_

_Chapter One_

I stand by a sakura tree. It's a windy spring day but I can't feel it. The sharp breeze is hitting hard against my front body and ruffling the rosy coloured leaflets of the midget tree while I gazed down towards the lively town from my place on the hill-top. But I'm too deep in thought to notice any of nature's small wonders or its beauty.

Why am I here? Why did all of this happen to me? How is it that I feel this emptiness unshakable inside, enveloping my heart and mind in this thick fog of uneasiness and vacancy? Why do I feel like this? _What is_ this feeling?

But I'm getting ahead of myself and confusing you even more than _I_ am. I better explain to you the reason for me standing here all confused and generally messed up. Why am I different from the others? I lace my fingers in my ebony locks and pull my hair gently back as if it's not straight enough with its flame-like style. I smirk weakly as I feel my hair shorter than it originally was. My smirk turns into a deep frown as I lean back on the sakura tree and let myself drift off in thought…

Let me tell you a little story – the story of my family's fate… Let me tell you how and why I died…

* * *

I stared at myself in the mirror, bottom lip curled in a firm childish pout. My dark spiky hairs seemed to be on a rampage as they always were, but this time I could relate to the feeling myself – I was in frenzy. Every fiber of my body willed me to object to my parents' wishes. Every little part of me wanted to scream, to yell until my voice was no more, but I couldn't show such a weakness or submit to such a disgraceful act. I have been a burden to my parents my whole life. I have brought only misery to them since day one, or at least they behaved a way that made me believe so. But I've ceased to care soon enough. I was what I was. And they would not make me change just because they did not like the way I acted.

I was furious that day. I was frustrated and agitated to a boiling point. I overreacted every time I had to do that and for a damned good reason too, so I thought back then! I hated it. I hated her too, with an immeasurable ardour. I hated them as well; I hated them for making me do it. I hated them for doing that to me. I hated them both for having her in the first place. Why had they needed _her_ after they had _me_? Had I not been good enough to please their whims? Had that been why _she _existed? I wished someone would answer my questions. I wished someone would try to make me feel better, comfort me, whisper a few words to ease my soul's heavy weight, a weight too great for a heart that small. However, no one wanted to approach me anymore. They were probably afraid I'd erupt in anger or beat them up or whatever. But, as I mentioned already, I had ceased to care.

I turned around, not able to stand my frowning expression in the mirror a second longer. I had tried running away from home already in a desperate cowardly attempt to end this _my_ way. My stupid parents had informed the authority and now I had to endure this hell all over again. But I didn't want the stupid cops to be on my trail again. I felt uneasy staring in their glaring eyes. I could have never figured that they had just the same thoughts about me.

My name is Briefs, Vegeta Briefs. I was ten years old at the time the following events took place but my mental turmoil and instability caused by my overwhelming feelings a boy my age shouldn't even _know_ about made me sound much older. My father was the most important person on the planet. He was a scientist and wanted me to follow his lead and become one too when I grew up. Father and his stupid visions of my future that I had no intention of participating in… so annoying, nonsensical and inconsiderate… Anyway, Dr. Briefs, as he liked to be called, the inventor of the capsules and president of Capsule Corporation, was the person I was used to call "father".

"Vegeta," I heard a high-pitched voice behind myself. I cringed but turned around before I had to hear it again. My eyes laid on my worst nightmare-come-true – my younger sister. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with joy as she was told I'd take her out for a walk in the park, where she'd play and generally enjoy herself. She had tied her shoes and was looking expectantly at me. Yes, you got that right. I had a little sister. Her name was Bulma. She was a year younger than me, but she looked like she was four at the time. She was a retard in my eyes, but I had avoided stating my opinion in fear of her whimsical self running to Mother and Father's embrace in search for comfort. I didn't want them hanging on my neck because of that little insolent bitch.

I sighed. It was a sigh of pure irritation. You can already tell that I was not from those people that are so over-protective of their younger relatives, and especially those berserk older brothers of their younger sisters. I was no where even near to such a thing as I cared none who and what did to her. To tell you the truth as I already did earlier, I resented my sister's guts.

"Are you about ready? It's not as if someone actually _cares_ how you look like when you go out to play in the _sandbox_." I snapped sharply at her, rolling my eyes after my statement. She was used to my comments and reactions about by now. She usually didn't answer any of them. She just watched me with those deep blue eyes as if she was trying to hypnotize me and make me say I'm sorry for being 'mean' to her. Yeah, right; that would happen only in her bravest dreams.

"For a girl it is always of great importance to look good." She had this smug expression on her face that adorable kids our age usually get when they're told their toys look modern or just getting complimented at all. I despised that kind of expression… "Let's go now! I can't wait to get there!" She exclaimed enthusiastically and I mumbled something incoherent I cannot recall as I fetched my shoes. If it was a hellish day for me after I stepped over that threshold, a hellish day it would be, whether I liked the idea or not and no matter how reluctant I was to do it.

* * *

"Vegeta!" she called me from ahead with that annoying shrill voice of hers. I frowned deeply at her back which was facing me, but she did not seem to notice with her beaming toothy smile anything other than the birds' song and whatever, all this mushy stuff girls notice when they're happy… Her attitude pissed me off the most. I didn't like the fact she was my sister. And I certainly didn't like that my parents made me take her out to play again. They were really busy people and didn't have time for such issues. I didn't really care when they made me do things around the house: tidy a room, move something, or even wash dishes and other chores resembling that. I was ready to become a house_wife_ before I had to spend a second longer there with someone like _her_.

"Vegeta!" she kept calling my name, giddy as ever could be. Did she not note the annoyance I looked at her with? Was she blind? Well, there was nothing to be done about it, even if she was oblivious to my malign.

I sat on a bench as far away from her as possible. I didn't want people to know we were related. I felt embarrassed by having people know I was her brother. It made me feel like a retard myself. I sighed. An irritated sigh it was again. I guessed there was nothing to be done about this either and especially when it came to choosing your parents – it was a given and no one had a say in it… At least she didn't call me "brother", "bro" or anything that instantly would inform other people that she was my sister. I felt like she was doing this on purpose, not calling me any of those things. Yet I had the feeling that if I found out why, I was going to hate her even more than I did then, so I never asked. Besides, asking would mean interrogating with her and interrogation meant irritation for me… I wasn't masochistic, after all.

Ever since she was little, Bulma had received all of the love of our parents. She had been showered with gifts since the day she was born. Since the day mother had expelled her from her body… Everyone was treating her like a glass doll, something so fragile and petite, as if she could break at any moment. They were treating her like a princess, a goddess even. Or merely just like the rich kid she should have been treated as. But I didn't want to hear any of it. She had all of the attention, all of our parents' time, which could be spared; all the love they could humanly give. I didn't need my parents, I never have. All I needed them for was the food, the roof to live under and the pocket money they gave me every week. Yet, in the same time, I still felt the rage and jealousy burning inside me every time Bulma hugged them, received kisses and byes and welcomes whenever she went in and out of the house.

I heard another frustrated sigh escape between my lips. Well, there was nothing I could do about this. And I was not going to do anything about it, even if I could. It wasn't my concern what was done or what she did, for that matter, for her. Hell would freeze over before I'd begin to care.

I lifted my gaze up, expecting to see her on that stupid swing again, enjoying herself, or doing yet another stupid girly thing or whatever. And then I saw she saw missing… again. I growled deep within my throat, feeling how sore it was getting from grumbling the whole day. If she got lost, my Mother would snap and Father would definitely beat the living daylights out of me for being so 'irresponsible' of a big brother. "She is your little sister, for goodness' sakes! You have to at least take care she doesn't get lost while she's out with you!" I could already hear him, screaming at me as his hand swings back but is caught by Mother's the second time he wants to hit me. Yep, you can tell these arguments were not really a rare event in our 'humble' little family.

I rose from the bench and explored the area in the laziest pace I could muster. I sighed. I'd do this, but I wouldn't like it.

"Bulma!" I yelled. I hated her name just as much as I hated her shockingly white face. She had always been like that. Her skin such a snowy white colour… With the oddly lavender locks of hair in her face, sticking in her mouth every once in a while causing her to brush them off occasionally, making her utterly disgusting with her exceeding girlish cuteness… Her sapphire deep eyes that made me want to vomit every time she stared at me with that childish innocence of all kids our age.

"Bulma!" I yelled again, this time with even less enthusiasm. Why was I doing this? Let Mother scream her head off and cry her eyes dry. Let Father kick, hit and punch me until he's sore all over and can't even hold a pen straight. They could call the authorities and everything would be perfectly fine – they'd find their precious little daughter in a flash, being the heiress of the most important person in the whole world and everything. I tried to tell myself that. But in the back of my mind, I knew this was my fault, my carelessness' fault. And I would be the one held responsible if something happened to her. Not that I _cared_ if something would happen…

I kept looking for her, even despite my conflicting emotions. I had checked everywhere around and there was still no trace of her. I heard children's laughter and frowned. I hated it every time I heard that sound – so careless and gleeful… So innocent and ignorant that it sent me in a childish rampage, knowing that because of my twisted nature I would never be able to be like that, to feel like that… All that I could consider fun was kicking those who were laughing in the gut.

Though, this time I felt strangely gravitated to the place the laughter was coming. There was no carelessness and joyousness in that sound this time… I glanced over to one of the kids and found that in the center there was another trying to snatch a jacket out of a girl's hand… out of my sister's hands.

"Give it here, idiot!" The boy yelled at her and a hoarse laughter ran through all of the third graders.

They were all bigger than her and the boy was certainly stronger than Bulma. I noted that the jacket she was protecting was actually mine since I forgot to take hers from the hanger at home. But that didn't occur to me when the adrenaline started pumping in my veins along with my blood. I felt anger unlike any other before… Why? I hated her, more than anything else in the whole wide world, yet I couldn't watch her being mocked by those complete strangers… What did I care? Maybe there was some brotherly side to my character after all, one I have never even suspected there could be… I couldn't explain how I felt, but I knew what I wanted to do about those feelings…

"No!" she yelled back. Her voice was stern and determined, despite the fact that she realized she was being out-numbered and out-powered by the kids. She didn't see me and continued being oblivious of my presence. She had her eyes closed and tears were probably threatening to cascade down her cheeks. "It's not yours! Let it go! Vegeta will hate me forever if something happens to his favourite jacket!" she said even more steadfast of herself this time, opening her flashing in rage eyes. The kids chuckled and the one that was teasing her smirked arrogantly. She didn't budge at the look on his face, nor did she let go of my garment.

"I have no idea who you're talking about, you big baby, but if you cry I promise I'll let go!" The boy tittered cruelly after his statement, making Bulma growl her irritation and I clenched my fists. How dare that spoilt brat talk to a Briefs that way? I didn't care about _my_ feelings for her at that exact moment – all I cared for was that some unknown kid was manhandling Bulma Briefs, heiress to the billion dollar Capsule Corporation.

However, my sister was obviously no wimp, or at least she had the courage to stand up for herself. She slapped the boy's hand away from my jacket and it instantly turned bright red. I smirked unconsciously before I realized what he was about to do next. His right hand rose in the air – he would hit her any moment. But I'd give him no time to do so.

I slammed a kid from the crowd forward to fall over the attacker and jumped in on them, hitting each of them mercilessly. I was a really violent child, you can say that… Most children are uncoordinated, and don't know what they're doing… but not me. I knew perfectly well how powerfully and where to hit so it hurt… I was a scary child, indeed…

Bulma sniffled angrily and pulled back against my back, glaring at the group of mean boys, exultation shining in her eyes as she stuck her tongue out at them, all those fools backpedaling a step or two. Huffing after finishing off the two who retreated with tears falling down their chubby red faces, my onyx eyes scanned the small crowd of scared children, rage burning in my dark orbs. I bared my gritted teeth at them and slammed my left fist into my right palm before their eyes. "Does anyone think it's still funny?" My voice sounded intimidating even in my own ears back then – a voice unfitting for such a small frame… A voice that knew anger and resentment too well for a child not even at the age of twelve…

Before I knew it, the kids scattered around and I hadn't seen them since then. There was a very uncomfortable silence after that, my back facing Bulma, my thick-headed self stubbornly refusing to look at her grateful face… because I had just saved her… _I saved her_… And I was really angry at those boys… because they were being mean to my little sister… a sister I despised more than anything in my short life span…

My arms falling to my sides, I turned on my heel and glared at her, getting ready to yell at her for getting in trouble in the first place. She opened her mouth with an ecstatic, "Tha—" but I snatched my jacket from her, interrupting her before she could finish and swinging it over my shoulder, my back instantly facing her again.

"Shut up and get moving. And if you say a word about this to Mother and Father, I'll kill you." I tried to sound as menacing as I could, being as shaken up as I was. She was about to object, I knew, but when I took off she obediently followed, without a word spoken between us.

I didn't want to hear her thanks! I didn't want her _ever_ reminding me that I had saved her! I still hated her, now even more than ever, for making me… turning me into… into… _this_! This overprotective big brother, whose actions spoke of care and worry, _things I would never ever feel for her_.

And she kept her promise. She never mentioned a word to Mother or Father about the confrontation, nor did she ever remind me of it…

* * *

The next night, I found myself training the whole day without as much as a brake. You'd say that for a ten year old I made a lot of fuss about it. Well, to tell you the truth, there wasn't anything else I could do around this house besides training to entertain myself. I didn't like watching television, I didn't like associating with my sister, I didn't like having her presence near and I didn't like the idea of being alone with her in the house and, god forbid, even in the same room. But living in Capsule Corporation was like living in a Palace. Although it had this strange dome-like shape which made it impossible to be mistaken for a Palace from those foolish fairy-tales, it could still be a castle's rival by the numbers of rooms it had.

Anyway, what I meant is that the place was huge. There were tens, hundreds of rooms even, in here, having various people living inside the compound – employees, friends, relatives… Many different people, most of which I have never even seen – from big-shots looking for a roof to sleep under for a day or two to small fries that work for Father and live under our roof permanently, either in the living quarters specially provided for the employees of Capsule Corporation or in the main building on rental. And every time I walked around this huge house, I encountered Bulma countless times… And you should take in mind the fact this place is truly _colossal _and it's next to impossible bumping into someone around here… I guess you could just call it my luck then…

And the only place where only _I_ was allowed to go, and that was _I alone_, was the training chamber. Why? Well that would be because I had it made all to myself and no one else, so _I_ decided who could stay and who had to go when there.

The training chamber looks more like a dome from the outside. I felt as if it had a different atmosphere inside here. It was just… Well, I guess I had this feeling because it reeked of me, my sweat, of the blood I spilled… It was my only real refuge in this world. Great, now I sounded like a rascal…

I hit the wall with my tightly clenched fist. I didn't know why I felt so… so… empty all over again… I really had no idea what I wanted to achieve in life at the time… But which ten-year-old really does? I didn't know the reason I kept going… I simply didn't have one… What a sad thought that was… especially having in mind that I was but a ten year old… You have no idea what a burden it is to have spent only ten years in this world and be already fully awake and aware of things surrounding you… You have no idea how heavy a burden it is to feel all this hate and resentment for no apparent reason whatsoever, eating you from the inside…

I heard the door moan open and ceased all movement with my back towards the intruder. A noticed out of the corner of my eye a head poking inside the premise, curious cerulean eyes scanning the room for my frame in the darkness provided by the faint red light that would annoy my eyes to no end if I paid much attention to it.

"Vegeta, are you here?" the shrill voice of my little sister calls, making me cringe in exasperation.

"Take a freaking guess," I snapped at her, causing her to pull back slightly before she obviously remembered why she came barging in and interrupting my precious time for training.

"Mom and Dad are going out for a few days, some sort of meeting about Capsule Corporation…"

"Tell me something I don't know…" I growled and threw several punches in the air to relieve the anger that was building up in me. She didn't keep quiet for long…

"There are enough things in the fridge for just one sandwich and I was wondering what you'd like me to order for dinner—" She stopped suddenly when my furious eyes glared ablaze at her frame over the threshold to my sanctuary.

"Stop boring me with such tedious matters and get lost! Can't you see I'm busy?" I yelled at her, scaring her off. I felt a strange surge of contentedness when I heard the door slam shut and resumed my training with renewed vigor.

However, as much as I hated to admit it, about an hour or a couple more later, the sounds my stomach made every time I strained it were too loud to ignore. I had to eat something, and fast. I went straight to the kitchen to find it as empty as my ditzy mother's head. I groaned and leant over the open door for support. What was I going to do now? I didn't have anything left to eat since I shooed Bulma off, it's already too late to order anything, people have to be nuts to work at this hour and the nearest super market was half an hour away. And by the time I reached it, I'd be famished…

I took a whiff of the air, and then devoured the air hungrily with my nostrils. Delicious… Something very delicious was releasing its scent in the air…

I followed the trace of sweet odour to my taste buds towards the living room, where I found an unopened pizza lying on the table. My thoughtful frown instantaneously turned to a toothy grin as I jumped on the couch, throwing the lid open to see what the savior dish was with. My favourite! I couldn't believe it! It must've been my lucky day!

I started stuffing my face immediately, but then my mind processed the answer to the question that had crossed my mind upon seeing the box – who left this for me? Mother and Father were out and the only remaining person in the house was my sister.

So what? Too bad she didn't eat anything else than a stinky sandwich a century old or so. I tried to assure myself that what she did was none of my business. But I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it… I couldn't win over my nagging conscience… I tried to annoy her, I hated her, I attempted with everything I could to make her hate me back, as should be… Yet she was still so nice to, so damn nice to me!

I sighed before I began my third slice. It was no use – I'd have to go shopping tomorrow for the two of us with my savings. The last thing I wanted was to be in her debt…

* * *

And so, time passed, and I graduated the fourth grade. My parents advised me I should apply to some special school that begins from grade five. I didn't do as much as flinch at the thought of leaving the house for three years. I was still a child, yes; my mother and father realized that very well. Don't think of them as heartless people. They did as well know how independent I was, and how much I detested my little sister. I think that and the fact they really wanted something great to become of me were the reasons they sent me away for those three years. After that time I would come back to Capsule Corporation anyway… hopefully as a better person.

The interesting part was that I had to leave on Bulma's birthday…

Not that I really cared. I never cared. I never gave her any gifts for her birthdays anyway. I sighed. Why was it different this year? What changed? Was it the fact that she had been trying harder than ever to get under my skin? Was it the fact that she actually succeeded that angered me so much? I didn't really care, honestly. But I felt… obliged in a strange way to give her a present, something not really valuable in money aspect but in sentimental anyway.

I was never the 'gift'-type of person. I never knew what the other could possibly want to possess or what not. And the fact that I had to find a gift for someone I loathe didn't really help me in the matter. I sighed in irritation. What would I ever do when there were no feelings of loathe even to drive me around in the other city?

I laid on my back on my own bed for one last night and stared up at the white ceiling. I've heard that mental hospitals have white ceilings and walls as well. White eases the eyes, they say. Well, it certainly didn't ease mine. I let out a snort and turned to the side with my back facing the door-frame now. I'd think about my 'duty' as a gift-giver after I took a little rest. It was going to be a long trip tomorrow…

* * *

The next day the whole family was gathered around the cab that was taking me to my new apartment in West City. Mother had pulled her beautiful wavy jet-black hair in a loose pony tail that did not do much than just keeping it out of her face as she cried for me. She didn't want the hair to ruin her make up further than the crying did. Father shed a tear as well but shook my hand politely as we said our good-byes, telling me to take it easy and to return ever better than before. I was speechless… The parents that I have always thought hated me the way I loathed my sister… they had cried for me… I felt a strong surge of guilt running through my entire being…

My little sister just stared at me from behind them. She probably did not dare hug me after all that I have told her about my feelings towards her, even though it was clear in her eyes she wanted desperately to cling to me. I felt like a monster right then… I scared her with that attitude of mine… But she deserved it, a little voice in my head called, assuring me about my actions so far towards her that I was beginning to seriously doubt. I looked away from her and got in the cab. All of my family waved at me, except for her. She was just staring at the ground guiltily, her fists clenched by her sides, as she had been for the whole time now. She did not lift her head even for a mere second…

And then, when the cab pulled out of the drive way, her eyes shot up with the speed of light and my eyes locked with hers for a meek moment. She saluted me with teary eyes, salty droplets cascading down her cheeks, and that was the last thing I saw of my house and family for a long time.

I sighed as I placed my back in the cushy upholstery of the car. I wondered with a breathless faint smirk how she'd react when she came back to her room and saw the package on her bed that I have deposited right before I exited the house…

* * *

Do note that their mother's hair is _black_. That should clear any misunderstandings.

I decided to write this fic almost anew, because I always thought of it as my greatest work, yet the shocking grammar mistakes were too much to take and even _I_ couldn't bear the beginning of the first chapter… So I advise even the people who have read it before to give it a glance! You won't be sorry! This time, I _will_ have a reason to be proud of this story! Have fun reading!


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

The next couple of years had been total Hell.

I had not realized before how fortunate I was living in Capsule Corporation main dome… And the sudden change was more of a stress to me than I could imagine back then…

As for school… it had been more than a nightmare you can't wake up from, and even that was an understatement. Thirteen-year-olds in that era were the most rampageous, rioting brats you could ever see. They knew no restraint, they listened to no authority; they smoked like chimneys, drank until they fainted… Every single one of their so-called parties was an utterly disgusting and pathetic sight—a real orgy—with kids' half-dead corpses on the floor, still unconscious from the previous night's activities. Revolting…

What was even more disgusting was the fact that I was slowly but surely becoming one of them, even though I was originally the outcast of all possible groups they formed. When I first got there, I would snort at their idiocy when they invited me for a smoke, or to some party of a kid whose name I have never heard before. I acted snobbishly as was suited for a Briefs… But, naturally, after all the fights I had been engaged in, I was labeled a trouble-maker by the teachers anyway, marked as a black sheep along with all the other trash… and eventually turned into a part of the revolting crowd at Orange Star Middle School…

Word had been sent to my parents about all the trouble I got into. I was already used to the angry shouts over the phone from my usually tranquil father and the ecstatic chirping of mother's shrill voice. Even though I always claimed I wasn't afraid of anything, I never once returned home before the end of my exile. I even planned on staying a year longer after that and I would have, if only father hadn't come to pull me back home by my ear…

It wasn't as if I wouldn't gladly exchange the havoc of my cramped apartment which reeked of a leaking sink for the peaceful fancy room I had with adjoining bathroom at Capsule Corps. It was the confrontation _before_ I settled back in that made me all jumpy and hesitant. Wouldn't you be that way too if you knew how much damage you have caused to a school building, a facility that your parents have always respected and had tried to transfer those feelings to you too?

* * *

I was still pouting like a child out the window of my father's expensive car even as he pulled into the driveway to the dome. He had been lecturing me almost the whole way there, even though he rarely spoke otherwise… I took the invitation gladly, exiting the vehicle as fast as I could while father parked the car inside the spacious garage. Now that I thought of it, I should've felt honoured by the fact Dr. Briefs himself drove all the way from West to Satan City just to pick his son up. _Touching_… I rolled my eyes after the thought, shoving my hands into my pockets as I approached the front door.

But before my finger tips could even come in contact with it, the door burst open and my ditzy mother grabbed me by my waist and started crushing me against her form. I groaned in annoyance and tried to shrug her off but her grip could become really vicious when she had set her mind into it. She was crying in joy and her tears were soaking my shirt. Her howling wails were hurting my ears and I couldn't even protect them as my arms were hostages to the aging woman's hold too.

"Oh, my baby! I have been so worried about you, Vegeta! Your father told me you were into a bad crowd! Why, that boy Nappa and his parents are such rotten eggs!"

"Nice comparison, Mother. Now could you _please_ let me breathe?" I snapped sarcastically at her, making her let go of me anyway to check if I was alright and if my body was whole. By the time, I had started to ignore her shower of rhetorical question completely; now starting dumbly through the open door towards the girl I felt such strong resentment before…

I thought that upon seeing her face after all these years, the hate I felt so long ago would come flooding back to me, bathe my insides in its chocking hold… but nothing of the sort happened. I just stood there, staring at her as if I was seeing a ghost. Her kind smile barely managed to register in my mind as she approached us.

"Welcome home, Vegeta," she greeted me in that sweet mezzo-soprano voice, nothing like the shrill sound she created every time she opened her mouth all those years ago. Either that or I have truly forgotten all my foolish feelings for her when we were children…

"Whatever… I'm going to catch on some sleep. Father can sure be annoying when he wants to be…" I muttered under my breath as I passed by her.

"Tell me about it…" she mumbled understandingly loud enough so just I could hear her as I passed by her. I blinked with my back turned to her and proceeded to my room without a word more.

* * *

How was it that after three years I had changed so dramatically? I was now indifferent to Bulma, I didn't mind either her voice or presence, and what was more… I could barely recognize her.

She had grown up to be slightly taller than me, but that was alright… Hopefully, like all boys, during puberty I would get taller than her again. It was a mere couple of centimeters, but it mattered to me never the less, being the proud male I raised myself to be.

But, back to the topic, had it not been for her shoulder-long lavender tresses, as straight and smooth-looking as ever, and the cerulean orbs completely identical to father's, I would've never guessed she was my baby sister… She looked like… like a _girl_ now… Hell, she was even beginning to _shape_ like a girl… Her hips were slightly fuller than a child's, the baby fat on her face was disappearing completely and she even had… I didn't want to finish the thought as I buried my head in the pillow in annoyance with myself.

That night, I had some sort of gala dinner thrown in my honour which consisted in all family members residing the same room, eating junk food ordered over the phone. As if I hadn't had enough junk food during my stay in West City… But how could they know that since they didn't care enough to ask? Some gala dinner it was…

* * *

The summer after my return was quite an odd one.

I rarely saw any of my family members, what with mother always going to these clubs she loved so much (her favourite was the knitting club… how can someone actually _enjoy_ a place where all you do is knit in silence?), father attending all those Capsule Corporation meetings and Bulma being locked up in her room all the time, introducing herself to all her books and workbooks for her upcoming seventh grade of school.

I couldn't deny the fact that I enjoyed the peace and quiet of my room and the comfort of my training chamber which was quite the only thing that hadn't changed a bit (thankfully; otherwise someone was going to get it!) but it was getting seriously odd… I didn't feel as a part of this family, although I never really felt as a part of it anyway… But that was no excuse for all of them avoiding me like the plague…

One day at lunch while mother and father were out, Bulma was reading her text book for her next grade while she ate an apple on the table, throwing occasional glances at me toying with my food. I wasn't really hungry; I had a midnight snack that just about filled me up for half a day straight.

"Is something wrong?" she asked halfway worriedly, slapping her book closed and placing it atop the dinning table to look straight at me, getting ready to listen to whatever I had to say. I glared up at her with my head still resting on my palm.

"What do you care?" I snapped. She shrugged and snatched her book again.

"You're right, I don't." And with that she was about to ignore me completely, going back to her quiet reading self, denying that I was in the same room as her. My mouth remained closed, my posture dignified as ever; but inside I wanted to gape at her with my jaw dropped. She had changed so much… She was no longer that scared little girl that obeyed my every word… Even though I liked her as her spineless childish self, I didn't mind that change as much as I should have…

"That's right; you can just go on, acting as if I'm not in the freaking room." I grumbled and stood up, my chair screeching in a high-pitched noise against the tiled floor, hurting my ears, as I did so.

"I don't think I recall wrong when I say it was _you_ who didn't want me calling you "brother" three years ago, _you_ who couldn't stay in my presence for longer than a few minutes before you start grumbling like a spoilt child and _you_ who proclaimed your 'undying hate for me' every chance you got, now do I?" She looked up from her book at my puzzled face before my arms crossed over my chest and I glared at her.

"I thought you just said you didn't care." It was the best retaliation in the little verbal battle we were currently having that I could think of. She huffed and buried her head in the book again, but I could still see the slight red flush that covered her face when she did so. "Besides, that was so long ago. How can you still remember it?" I creased an inquiring eye brow at her.

"How can I forget that my big brother whom I always looked up to called me a retard every time we were alone in a room?" Her voice held a tone of bitterness and her sapphire eyes blazed with fury at me… and what was even more baffling to me was that it sent a pang of guilt coursing through my being, pumped along with my blood from my heart, reaching every fiber of my being. "And you haven't done anything so far to prove you don't have such feelings anymore either." Her head, once more, buried itself in the student's book she was reading but this time it was with a determination that said clearly she wouldn't talk to me any longer.

After that statement I was at loss as what to say… I had no idea how to reply to that… I had never known she actually _looked up to me_… It hadn't _once_ occurred to me that it could be possible… I have never said to anyone that I was sorry; therefore I sucked at apologies… Trying my best at it wouldn't be enough and I didn't want to sacrifice even the smallest piece of my pride to show her that I, indeed, held no feelings of resentment towards her anymore. What was she, after all – blind? I would _not_ lower myself as to make stupid apologies to stupid sisters that can't get a hint!

"How did you like the bracelet?" The idea suddenly popped in my head as my train of thought had reached the moment I took off three years prior. Somehow, I don't even have a clue how exactly… I could almost feel her grin behind the book as her clenched fist rose over her head to make visible to me a silver bracelet around her wrist with two dragons facing each other in what seemed a staring death-match. I smirked and turned around on my heel. 'Case closed' was the last thought that crossed my mind before I told her, "I'll be downstairs training."

"'Kay…" she called meekly after me as I proceeded towards the training chamber, smirk still adorning my facial features, pulling on the corners of my mouth and curling them in an odd expression.

Maybe stupid sisters _did_ take _some_ hints…

* * *

After that little confrontation, things seemed to fall back in place. She was as cheerful as ever, doing things joyfully, happily conversing with her friends ChiChi and Goku, that were their names, if I recall properly…

ChiChi was an annoying girl with a strident voice and she got pissed off so easily, therefore occasionally deafening me every time I passed Bulma's room when the little aggravating brat was there. As for Goku… well, he was an absolute, complete and utter idiot. He couldn't do anything right and he ate for four… So annoying… I couldn't stand looking at him… His questions at me both puzzled me and irritated me to no end… An example about the stupid questions he made is, hm, let me think… "How does this multiplaying thing happen?" Yes, he was _that_ stupid, and he was just a grade smaller than my sister… It took me about half an hour to explain what the difference is between multiplying numbers and having a multiplayer game in internet… He should be thankful Bulma dragged him out of the room before the urge to choke him started getting unbearable…

Time sure flied, it was soon time for school again. It was a surprise to me to meet a girl I have seen before… Her name was Juuhachigou Jinzoningen and she was probably the only blonde that I have ever met to whom the saying "Blondes are dumb" doesn't come even nearly to applying. She was in my class, while I was still living in Satan City. Juuhachigou was in my new class too, though… It was odd how easily I could bear her company on the same desk once I made my peace with someone actually sitting next to me during classes…

What was the most annoying thing about returning to Orange Star High was that I had this goofy girl, Maron, on my trail no matter where I went. She was _so_ irritating and she looked absolutely like my sister, minus the dead brain, chubby features, constant foolish abnormal grin and long line of male admirers behind her.

A further puzzling fact was that the two weren't even friends. They even detested each other. Well, my sister detested her guts, at least. The other girl was quite ignorant of that fact, I think. And maybe the fact she was being copied was what drove Bulma so madly in rage.

I smirked at the thought as I walked next to my sister towards school. Her temper had most certainly improved in the time I was gone. What a pleasing fact that was actually… Maybe now I'd have someone to argue with who would actually have a decent chance at winning…?

* * *

A week or so later, everything had turned into more of a habit than anything else. We'd fight on the way to school, we'd part for periods, I'd wait for her in the front yard and then she'd wave to this guy, whose name was Yamcha or something like that if the gossipers in my class had the correct info, she'd come over to me and we'd go home, sometimes fighting some more to finish off what we had started in the morning, but more often walking quietly back to Capsule Corp. dome, just savoring the tranquil moments before we (more like _she_, because I usually ignored it) had to endure mother's cross-examination.

One of those days, however, Bulma was way too late. I was wondering what that rascal Yamcha might be doing to her when she finally burst through the double wooden front-doors of the school main building and seemed in even worse of a mood than the usual. I sighed and wondered who had pissed her off this time… She wasn't the type to take mockery well and knowing children nowadays… Heh… You'd say I wasn't just a year older by the way I talked.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Always the gentleman, I say, Vegeta…" she muttered angrily and glared daggers at me.

"I see that something is positively up your ass but I somehow fail to see my relation to it." Her shoulders slumped from her offensive frame and she exhaled, shoving a small sheet of paper in my hands which I studied uninterestedly.

"An invitation for a party?" I muttered aloud as my eyes zoomed over the written text on the thing. "And just _how_ is that something to sulk over?"

"You know mom and dad will never let me go there." She grumbled with a childish pout as her fingers enclosed around her backpack's shoulder straps.

"And they have a good reason not to, too." I clarified as I clenched the insignificant piece of paper in a tiny ball and threw it in the nearest trashcan with an apt basketball-like thrust. Bulma eyed me in exasperation as I shoved my hands back in their rightful pockets. "Why, the fuck, are you looking at me like that?"

"You _know_, but I don't."

"What the hell are you ta—" but she didn't let me finish as she rolled her eyes and explained,

"You know what these parties are like because you went to them and enjoyed yourself with your classmates," now the last part wasn't even near being true… "But I have never had the opportunity to do so! And by the looks of it, I never will!" She whined like a whimsical child as her gaze pinned to the ground again as she walked on. My onyx eyes rolled and I pondered when I had actually started to care about the moods she was in.

"What do you care what they say? They're not even home at the time it will be held." I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Seriously, for the daughter of the smartest person in the whole world, she could certainly be very idiotic at times… I observed her expression as realization dawned on her facial features and I nodded at her as if she was a retarded child. She laughed nervously.

"Yeah, you're right… but if I sneak in there without mom and dad's permission, what will happen with me if they find out?" She bit the nail of her thumb worriedly and her eyes slowly shifted to my form walking next to her. I cocked an eye brow at her actions suspiciously, already dreading what she would say next. "You know, even though Yamcha will be there, I'd feel safer if you're there too… Could you please, please, _please_ come with me to the party, Vegeta?" She pleaded desperately, her eyes shining with hope at me.

I wouldn't have agreed had it not been the comment before she asked me. I have no idea what was wrong with me, but every time she mentioned that low-life idiot in front of me, I got all worked up and had the urge to kill and to strangle that idiot… He was so obvious about his feelings for my sister that it was repulsing! But what was even more revolting was the fact that I actually _cared_ about things that aren't even my business! I mean, come on! Who she dated or not was none of my concern! She could even sleep with the bastard if she wished to! It was her life!

I was, obviously, in some desperate need of female attention… I was just spending too much time with my little sister.

"Yeah whatever…" I muttered as I walked further towards the house, fully ignoring the cries of glee from my counterpart.

I was _really_ spending too much time with the sister I hated so full-heartedly not so long ago… I was certain that _wasn't_ a healthy thing to do, nor was the fact it was actually happening…

Feminine attention, feminine attention, desperate need for attention…

* * *

The party was much of an orgy rather than anything else, as all teenage parties. I couldn't say that I liked it, but I couldn't say that I hated it either. I told Bulma to be careful about everything and we parted so I could get the female attention I needed and to leave her alone with her boyfriend, or whatever that Yamcha guy was to her.

She still denied whenever I referred to that guy as a 'boyfriend' of hers, but I didn't want to hear another word about it. If only she could see herself from the side… She'd know how right I actually was.

Not that I wasn't _always_ right about everything!

* * *

"Hey, Vegeta," I heard someone slur my name out in a purr just as I was getting rather pissed off that everyone was having the time of their night and only I stood there alone like an idiot. I turned my head around to get very disappointed and exasperated when I noticed that it was just that sick stalking bitch Maron standing there with a cup of punch in her hand and a lavender lock intertwined around her pinkish-skinned finger. She was probably trying to look seductive to me; I could sense something like that. It was a little difficult to me to find her attractive as a girl when she was just like another version of my sister. I could tell she knew nothing about my relation to Bulma… stupid as she was…

"What do you want?" I snapped and took a swing of the beer mug I have been holding for a while now and taking huge gulps of whenever my anger rose to intimidating proportions – the last thing I wanted was for my temperamental character to go all ballistic on those poor unsuspecting fools of hormone-driven teenagers… The insolent idiot kept standing there, playing nervously with her hair.

"Hey, I wonder if…" she struggled for words. I rolled my eyes. I wasn't in the mood for this…

"I could care less about the idiocies that puzzle you, now just get the hint and get lost!" The beer was my second half-liter mug and you can see it was already taking its toll on me.

She blinked a few times, obviously not taking rejection well. I sighed in irritation and pushed her aside.

"I hoped you'd get the hint after I brushed you off for the tenth time this year," I added angrily, slurping from the huge glass again. I was being painfully frank with her and as I have already mentioned, the beer had its fair role in my attitude's swings tonight. But perhaps _now _she'd get the hint and just leave me be! She looked really upset. It must have really got to her… eureka! It was about freaking time, damn it!

"So you're not going to date me?" I threw my free hand up in the air in defeat and then slapped it against my forehead. She was far too stupid for me to bother with her, not to mention trying to tolerate her. Wasting time on such brainless fools was far below my dignity.

I retreated from the scene I would cause with the bimbo and collapsed on a couch, content with the fact she was actually too stunned to move from her place. This house we have been invited to reminds me of the summer house by the beach our parents own. With the difference that this one is not by the beach and not nearly as nice as ours was. I had been so engulfed by my thoughts that I had not spotted the blonde on the love-seat by my right side. I relaxed back on the couch when a cold voice drew me out of my drunken delirium… What can I say? I was still not used to drinking and two mugs easily got to me…

"What do you know? I never thought I would see someone like you on such an occasion." My eyes drifted over to the feminine voice I had heard. I felt my lips curl into a devious smirk. Finally, finally! The attention I have been craving for was finally here! Just as I was getting despaired I would never manage a cock tease the whole night…

"I could say the same for you, your majesty." She smirked as well.

"I'm here out of sheer boredom, bastard, don't misunderstand."

"It goes the same with me." I felt her eyes on me as the lids fell over my onyx orbs, my body too tired of the occasional work outs and insufficient sleep. Oh, so I now got Miss Cold all to myself. I chuckled inwardly. In school, Juuhachigou Jinzoningen was the off-limits chick without a boyfriend. She brushed off anyone and everyone – she was the biggest challenge one could ask for. No one knew what her type was. One thing I was sure about was that I _wasn't_, but boredom obviously _did_ wonders to people. It was going to be a fun night…

And even with that thought in mind, I still had those odd flying questions through my head about my sister's whereabouts and what she was doing right now as I attempted to flirt. What did _I_ care who she was with? _She_ was the one looking for trouble, defying our parents probably for the first time in her life just so she could make out with that loser rat of a boyfriend of hers freely.

"So, I take it you have no date for tonight? What's a guy like you doing here without a date anyway?" She leant closer to the spot I have been sitting in. I smirked back at her.

"Trying to find a date?" I suggested and she quirked a dubious eye brow at that. "Besides, you're the one to speak – I don't see anyone hanging on your neck either and the 'he's finding me a drink' won't slip." She grinned at me.

"It comes naturally – not seeing anyone around me, that is." Her wicked grin didn't change. It still remained spread over her angel-like features which only proved that looks could easily fool you.

"Don't you think the same applies to me?"

"Now that you mention it…" She mocked a thoughtful frown. "We're both not quite the people one would think should be alone at a party, eh?" I got her hint as she leaned closer to me, causing a mimicking evil grin to spread on my face as well.

"I think I might be ill. It's the first time I'm agreeing so much with anyone on anything."

She laughed merrily with that usually monotonous voice of hers that seemed to transform so much under the effects of alcohol. An exultant smirk pulled the corners of my mouth as I enjoyed the way I obviously affected her, regardless the amount of toxins in her blood.

However, I had no time to savor the lust-filled looks she was giving me as someone pulled gently on my sleeve. I thought it was Maron and I inhaled a deep breath, prepared to yell at her that I was too busy with someone else to pay even a bean attention to her when I noted that the lavender haired girl wasn't Maron.

Bulma's face was paler than usual, if that was even humanly possible. Her eyes were half-closed as if she didn't even have the power to keep her lids open. She was obviously struggling against the force that had befallen her but it was a futile losing battle. She would collapse any time now.

She spared Juuhachigou a meek glance while she supported her weight on the arm of my chair, looking desperately in my eyes, her cerulean orbs swimming back and forth in what was a clear case of her first jag.

"Ve-Vegeta… I'm s-sorry to interrupt, but—"

"What the heck happened to you?" I heard my voice stern and firm as it should be suited for a bigger brother. It was true, I was a mere year older, but I felt this year like ten, what with the fact I was far more mature that kids my age. And… well, I was obviously a lot superior to her physically, so… You get the idea – I have a damn good reason to feel like a bigger brother to her with more than a year. Her lavender hair fell from behind her ear in her face as she sobbed and reclined forward as she couldn't hold herself up any longer.

"Vegeta… Please… Take me home…" She sobbed again. I could see her breaking down. I had never seen her like that before ever since I had returned, what with her character turning out to be that of such a spitfire. She looked all red in the face but I knew perfectly well it wasn't a blush from the fact she had got drunk. I saw her knees buckle under her as she supported herself on the back of the couch now. I kicked myself mentally for staring vacantly while she struggled to stay erect as I approached her from the side after getting up, trying to overcome my own dizzy state.

"Wha-what are you doing?" She stuttered and cowered away from my embrace. I frowned even deeper as I pulled her back by her arm.

"Idiot!" I scorned her. "You think you're in condition to walk? Don't be ridiculous!"

"But I'm heavy!"

"Shut up… Your high-pitched voice is hurting my ears." What an obvious lie… Her voice was music to my ears now… but she didn't need to know that now, did she?

I grabbed her forcibly before she could get away again. I collected her blacking out form in my arms before her knees gave out from underneath her and she made a fool of herself before all her class-mates and upperclassmen. Not that I really cared if that happened…

I looked expressionlessly at Juuhachigou who was now glaring vacantly with an uninterested gaze at the female in my arms. I turned around without a word of explanation to the blonde girl, only to hear her mumble a, "There goes a good lay with another chick…" and something that resembled a "should've tried the damsel-in-distress thing as well" before she slurped angrily from my beer I had placed on the table next to the couch somewhere along the lines.

What a disturbing persona this blonde was…

* * *

I glared at her face that was turned to the other side, stubbornly and guiltily refusing to face my chest.

"Brat," that was how I called her when I referred to her ever since we have been kids. Her body was not as heavy as she obviously thought it to be; in fact she was extremely light for someone her age. Her eyes still refused to lock with mine. "Bulma," I mutter menacingly this time, but she still didn't dare a look at me. Her stubbornness would get the better of my temper one of those days… "What happened to you?" No answer. "You better answer, or Scar Face gets what's been coming at him for some time now." I smirked at my statement. At least I would get some amusement out of her silence if she still tried to play this whose-will-is-more-powerful game.

"No!" She suddenly panicked, her eyes snapping fully open in apprehension. "It wasn't Yamcha's fault; it wasn't anyone's fault…" her voice trailed off. "I just got too caught up and then they wouldn't let me stop…"

"Who are _they_?" I snapped maliciously, a little too mean than I intended. (God, kill me right now… I was using words like _mean_…) She seemed unfazed to that though, probably too out of it as well to notice.

"The guys from my class…" Her eyes were fluttering, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness. "They said I was a wimp and that I couldn't drink a certain amount of punch…"

"The punch wasn't really alcoholic," I pointed out as if she hadn't been there.

"The one you tried wasn't…" She trailed off for longer this time. "I feel so… nauseous… Are we shaking…?" She couldn't keep her eyes open and by the time we reached Capsule Corporation she was fast asleep.

* * *

I sighed heavily as I set her down on her bed and let my back adjust to the relief of the additional weight on it gone. As I watched her sleep, I felt a surge of burning hate for everything sinful on this world… Towards all those losers who wanted to humiliate her and a sudden self-loathe for the person I had been before.

The alcohol was definitely taking its toll on me; I chuckled aloud at the thought… To make me feel so weird it had to pack quite a punch… this drink of mine… Or maybe I was just simply tired…

She looked so cherubic in her faintly baby blue coloured covers, asleep in her bed, ignorant of everything that happened around her… more innocent than anyone her age in that pose…

My eyes rolled back and the pressure, both physical and mental, of the last few days, as well as the irregular way in which I ate, took the best of me and I collapsed next to her on the spacious bed, unconscious from the exhaustion myself, with one last thought crossing my mind as I did so…

'_I'll just relax my eyes for a second_…'

* * *

The happenings appear to be quite random, but, as some of you noticed, they are memories after all. Those of you who have read the previous version probably clearly see now the difference. Please review if you want the next chapter out! 


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

The next day came soon… Much too soon than I would've liked it to…

The persistent shafts of light kept prodding through the thick curtains of a room quite alien to my swimming eyes, my mind still buried in dreams and reveries of the semi-conscious state I had been in the entire night. Alcohol definitely had bad effects on me—that much was (head-splittingly, if I may say so myself…) quite clear… Even at that time I knew I'd hate hangovers all my life. And to think I hadn't really drunk that much… I was such a wimp…

After all those years of resenting my sister's guts, imagine how pleasant it was to wake up right next to her, the first thing you see in the morning her porcelain-skinned face right in front of yours. Well, obviously at least _she_ had had a better night's sleep than I had…

I blinked several times in a futile attempt to wish her away—what a silly action in itself… trying to wish someone away. I hadn't done such a thing when I was a little kid, yet I was doing it when I was a high school student—is there even a logic explanation to such a thing? Nevermind the senselessness of the entire situation, what mattered was that the vision of her pale expression did not disappear, regardless of the constantly rising amount of times my lids closed over my eyes. Could it be labeled strange that I deduced it would not disappear, no matter how many times I wished it away?

I jolted up from the bed and let the surroundings sink in. I had been awake for about ten minutes and it was then for the first time that I realized that it was not my sister intruding in my private space, using my bed and getting in my way but myself in _her_ room, on _her_ bed and sleeping _right next to her_ for the _entire_ night. I stopped dead in my tracks. When had that happened? However drunk I could have been, I was sure I would have never, under _no_ circumstances, ended up using the same bed to sleep as her.

I shook off the subject and, as subtly as I could, I started for the door and, once I made it safe to my own room, threw myself on the bed's spring flower scented covers. I needed to sleep over the stressing fact of how dangerously close proximity I have come to with my _dear sister_…

* * *

I had been lost in a reverie again… I can't remember whether it was a nice one or a bad one… In a second it didn't really matter at all as a very important part of my brain switched into full gear, awaking my sleeping mind which only registered a word—food.

My eyes opened to the sight of my room the way I had left it the previous day. Groaning in annoyance as I sat up I reminded myself never to sleep with my clothes, regardless of the state of tiredness I had reached. It was then that it truly hit me. The splitting headache, the horrible numbing blare of the silence and the dryness of my entire mouth came at me all at once, making it a futile battle to lead. I collapsed back on the bed feeling like I was swallowing sand with each vain gulp.

My nose though, for better or for worse, was working quite fine and I could still smell that beauty in the air. I wasn't hungry, I was _thirsty_! That's what my mind screamed at me, begging for some common sense, trying to drive me towards the bathroom that was right next door. When my stomach objected with a loud rumble though, another battle was lost. Whatever my sister had cooked was just too much not to go and check upon.

I have no clue how I had made it downstairs in one piece as the stairs are quite steep and the railings aren't much of a help when they reach below your waist but I did it. I saw her standing by the stove, stirring some soup and humming barely audibly to a barely audible melody playing on the powerful stereo in the adjacent spacious living room.

"What are you doing?" I heard my voice terribly hoarse, conveying how drained I myself felt. I hate it when my voice or expressions betray my mood…

"I'm trying to play a good house-wife." I was thankful she had her back to me at that time because otherwise she would've seen me flinch visibly as all my defenses seemed off due to the fatigue caused by the hangover. Somehow putting the words "house" and "wife" next to each other concerning my sister bugged me greatly, for some reason… "Are you hungry?" She looked at me over her shoulder. I think I nodded absent-mindedly and supported myself against the door frame leading to the kitchen. The head ache was killing me…

I had just noticed it at that moment. Her voice was softer than the usual… trying not to worsen my head ache? How noble…

"Ah, right, I almost forgot." She turned on her heel around to face me making an expression that had surely been quite short of fueling her sudden spark of enthusiasm. Still, she prodded on; "You must be very thirsty," hitting the absolute jackpot. It wouldn't be bad if she would do something about it too, I thought. However, when she actually did, I was left with no sarcastic remarks to think of. "Here!" she said and gave me a glassful of something of suspicious pale yellowish colour. "Drink this—it works like a charm."

"What the hell is this?" I grumbled after smelling it. Let's just say it didn't have the aroma of something that made you salivate…

"Sauerkraut juice, from the lady next door," my sister explained vaguely, as if saying that would make my confused expression brighten with recognition. It did not. Moreover…what the hell? "Well, don't just stand there, looking at me like that! Drink it!" she scorned me, turning to the stove again. "It's not as if I had _poisoned it_ or something."

"Sauer… kraut…?" Wasn't that German? It felt odd on my tongue… "How's that supposed to help my head ache?"

"Vegeta, you're really quite inadequate when you first wake up…" She laughed subtly to herself before turning off the hotplate. Well _excuse me_ for not being a happy-go-lucky person when I wake up to a hangover! "It's a remedy for hangovers that works one hundred percent on anyone after any kind of hangover."

"And since when do _you_ know so much about hangovers?" I cocked an eye brow while looking at her. She made that noiseless laugh again. Was she just tired really?

"The fact I had never got drunk doesn't mean I hadn't heard things in school, you know…" She was back to stirring the soup yet again and I took another distrusting look at the sauerkraut juice—was it—in my hand. Shrugging, I figured it couldn't possibly get any worse than it already was and washed all of the contents of the glass down my throat.

I then set the empty glass on the counter deciding there was enough time to do my dishes after I got my strength back.

"Mom and Dad said they won't be back for another week because the deal didn't quite come out the way they wanted it to so they're staying there until things are smoothed out. Since Mom isn't here and we'll have to feed _sometime_, I figured that the sooner I made something, the better. Here, try it—maybe it can still stay on the stove for a while longer." She then turned to me with a large wooden spoon in hand, full of the hellishly nice smelling liquid that had allured me downstairs and out of my dreamless land in the first place.

"I'll pass," I muttered and made my way to the couch. Was it just me or my head had started to feel slightly better?

My sister wouldn't leave it at that though. She looked at me as if I had done something terribly wrong, with that look full of hurt in her cobalt eyes.

"You still detest my guts, don't you?" she inquired suddenly, catching me quite off-guard (not that I could possibly have _any_ guards up at that moment…). I looked at her as if she had just grown a horn on her body.

"I refuse to eat any of your soup and you… _somehow_ deduce that I can't stand you? Do elaborate," I glared accusingly at her with a carefully weighted amount of skepticism in my gaze… although when you think about it, it had to have been a very inadequate gaze with my eyes swimming as they were…

"It's just the kind of vibe I get from you, I guess…" she looked at her feet guiltily.

"Go get your vibe-receiver fixed then," I concluded, sidestepping her and taking a sip of the soup anyway. The smell was too nice to continue being stubborn about. And after tasting it I knew it wasn't just the smell. My sister could make a terrific cook… but hell if I would tell her that at any point in time. After pleasing her whim, I made my way back to the couch and sat myself back with a low groan, enjoying the comfort the soft couch provided my aching body with.

Bulma was soon to follow, draping her whole upper body over the back of the couch, looking at me over her crossed arms.

"Then why do you still act kind of cold around me if you don't hate me?"

"You ask too many questions on topics you shouldn't push your nose too much into—have mother and father told you that lately?" Couldn't she tell soon I would get very annoyed? Was it that hard not to notice the tone of my voice changing ever so slightly with each pointless question?

"I'm just perplexed is all! I'm sorry, I just don't know how to act around you anymore…" There she was, apologizing again without actually saying those words. It made me want to grab her and hit her against something very hard, repeatedly, until her brain fell back into its place. She was acting like on thin ice whenever around me! You have to understand how annoying that was, as if I would jump her and tear her limb from limb any given moment!

Then again… wasn't that exactly what I was doing? Although I did not do it in a physical way, all her recollections of me are of times I mocked her, or teased her, or called her names. She probably felt intimidated by me and respected me as an older brother in the same time… I couldn't help but notice the tiny pang of guilt sneaking into my mind through some hidden back door. I couldn't even squish it like I liked to do with any other pang of guilt… It just wouldn't go away as long as her pure sapphire eyes were locked with mine…

"I'm yet to get used to your presence… and to the fact that I'm no longer that spoilt brat who went on slapping labels on people before he even got to know them." Her smile that moment… It unsettled me how it seemed to make something inside my chest stir. Before I could muse over it any more though, she leant over her support and kissed my cheek lightly before jumping back to her feet.

"Now that wasn't very difficult, was it? Thanks for the explanation; I'll refrain from pushing you from here on, I promise." She made her way towards the sound system. "I'll leave the soup on the stove for now. I'm going out for a bit." She turned the melody off, turning around to take off.

I was still in partial shock when I heard myself calling her back…

"Yeah?" she waited patiently for what I wanted of her.

"Don't turn it off… it doesn't… bother me…" It was odd how wonderful and careless everything felt and how this coziness that engulfed me made me struggle with my words. I now noticed my headache was completely gone. I absent-mindedly pondered whether Bulma would understand what I was saying… She didn't even know me even though we were close siblings… She wasn't obliged to attend to every whim of mine after all…

Through what seemed like a thick fog the accords of the gentle lulling melody started again, barely reaching me. So… she had indeed understood… my way of saying what I liked…

* * *

When I opened my eyes next, I was lying with my back on the couch, something soft covering my whole body. It took some time for my eyes to get accustomed to the semi-darkness of the room. I looked at the illuminated pad of the DVD system below the large TV screen—five thirty or so. Why was it so dark then? I shrugged the topic off with not-so-surprising indifference and brought myself into a sitting position on the sofa.

Ever since I had been a child, I had been able to control what I dreamt about. However, this time the case was different. I had had neither control over my dreams nor did I remember what I had dreamt about. Then again, I didn't much care what I dreamt about any other day, so why was I still thinking of such a nonsensical topic?

My eyes suddenly darted on what seemed their own accord and glued to the blanket that had been covering me the entire time I slept. It was just then that I noticed there was a pillow as well. I couldn't help the appearance of my frown. Why had she come back to do that, I thought she had said she was leaving?

Why was she so caring towards me in the first place? Family or no family, no Briefs ever bore than kind of treatment from anybody… so why did she? She's just as much of a short-tempered person as I am, and just as proud for that matter too—I could tell by the simple gestures of her body. So why the hell was she always so careful around me, why did she insist on doing things for me? What did she care about how friendly our relationship was? So what, there are other families in which brothers and sisters really can't bear to stay in the same room together for more than a few minutes. What was that to her? I had been a selfish little brat to her my entire life and yet, here she was, trying to redeem for my mistakes.

It angered me, to be quite frank. What drove me so crazy with fury, however, wasn't the fact she was going all girly and sisterly on me after so many years—I didn't really care much about that. What mattered was that she made me feel guilty—guilty for the way I had treated her, guilty for the way I avoided her eyes, guilty for the way I still couldn't get used to her presence in my life as something other than a nuisance. What infuriated me even more was that she excused herself, with gestures and body language, every time she did something that didn't seem to quite suit my whim… making me feel terrible for not apologizing for something far more horrible I had done to her repeatedly—terrorizing her throughout her entire childhood. It made me disgusted with myself… it made me feel like a villain…

I had always hated it when people like her use my own thoughts against myself… It was probably one of the reasons I had always despised her. It was perhaps something in the way our parents always stood up for her, even if it meant going against their own son. Why couldn't they see that _she_ was the real manipulator, whether she did it on purpose or not? She manipulated them her entire stay here and she manipulated _me_ now!

Something rather heavy hit the windowpane but I decided to ignore it. Capsule Corporation was the hugest company on Earth; it was only normal for inferior's children to come around and try to play pranks on us. How revolting lower classes were…

I hated her but at the same time I couldn't possibly hate her… She treated me as if she idolized me, as if I was some sort of higher existence on whose approval her life depended on. It felt so weird and so goddamn nice at the same time… knowing that someone looked up to you, even though all your bad deeds to them in the past. It was so odd… I couldn't understand a thing about that girl.

The tapping on the window continued but I still did a great job ignoring it.

I know people said sisters were a strange kin but this went beyond my imagination. It was perhaps some sort of worship that I would never understand… or was it plain respect for someone older and stronger than you? That was another concept I didn't quite comprehend, for—sure—I respected my father but had never felt much intimidated than him after graduating from elementary school. I had never even needed his guidance nor protection throughout most of my conscious life… I felt him too much of an enemy for siding with my sister on every goddamn issue.

All this thinking was getting me nowhere… I still wasn't sure how I felt towards my sister and still had no ideas how to act around her. Being uncomfortable around someone was alien to me and things which were alien to me annoyed me terribly. And when _I_ got annoyed, things got _really_ out of hand once I lose my temper…

With a feral growl I launched myself for the window to see who was bothering me. I was just getting ready to beat some sniveling kid to a bloody pulp when I noticed how dark the sky was… and what huge ice pieces were falling from it.

It was raining cats and dogs outside. The violent gale disturbed the trees' rest and carried some of their more unendurable leaves in fascinating whirlwinds. The hailstorm was something quite normal for a summer in this part of the globe and our hailstorms were usually quite hostile.

But when you're safe inside a dome in which no burglar could possibly break into, you didn't much care about hailstorms. So, shrugging the topic off, I made my way for the sound system and turned _my_ music on and turned the volume up so the irritating tapping would be drowned out. I'm not sure what I would've done if those ice cubes had broken a window but I'm sure I would've gone very mad.

I walked towards the kitchen in a mission to find something drinkable to appease my thirst. I was surprised to find the soup my sister had cooked still on the stove. Stupid girl… She had time to cover me but didn't have time for her own work?

Speaking of my sister… where the hell was she? Why were _all_ the lights in Capsule Corporation out? There wasn't a chance of her still being outside… right?

Suddenly, like an unwanted guest another alien emotion crept in my chest—it was what people probably called dread. If you were a petite female like her, one of those ice cubes hitting your head would be enough to knock you out. What if she _really was_ as stupid as I had always claimed her to be and was roaming around now, unaware of what could happen to her? What would mother and father say if they came back home to find their precious little "pumpkin" on a sick bed? I didn't want to find out what their reaction would be…

Grabbing my jacket from the hanger by the door, I went out and looked around, taking in my surroundings. Perhaps she was somewhere on Capsule Corporation grounds…

Sure enough, my luck started working for me, the gods probably smiling down at my senseless worry. The storage building's lights were on and I could almost see her there, sitting on the threshold with her head on her hands, staring at the sky. Taking an umbrella was useless—it would only ruin it and it would serve as no help at all. That's why I took off my jacket and ran through the storm with it as a shield for my head.

Bulma looked surprised to see me there once I stepped over the outer sliding doors.

"Vegeta? What are you doing here?"

"Why are you out?" I scorned immediately, feeling the urge to vent some of this weirdly bred anger. "Didn't you see a storm like _this_ coming from a mile?"

"Dad told me he needed me to do him a favour and fetch his cat's special food once the other packet is gone. I couldn't just _not do it_! I'd be a disappointment!" I tried to ignore the other clench of my chest her words had caused.

"You'd be an even _greater_ disappointment if they found you lying unconscious in your bed! Is a stupid pet's _special_ food _that_ important?" She looked weirdly at me.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm the one staying under solid roof until the storm passes and _you_ are the one racing here with nothing but your thin jacket. Am I wrong?" I didn't retort to that but I felt a bit stupid. She was quite right. Why had I gone there in the first place? I had seen her secure under the protection of the solid storage building's walls. Was I—gulp—worried she would go off somewhere while I wasn't watching? I noticed her laugh. "Vegeta, you're really so weird. I can't believe I made you blush with just that!"

My mouth hung open at that.

"You _did not_!" I objected, sitting next to her, looking outraged.

"Am I the one who sees your face or you?"

"Am I the one making faces or you?"

"You hate to lose an argument, don't you?" she asked with a foxy grin. I glared intensely. So what if I _did_?

"I have lost none to you," I clarified, crossing my arms over my chest.

"That doesn't change the fact you blushed a second ago."

"I did _not_!" I glared intensely at her as if she had just said something unforgivable. Well, she actually _had_. Vegeta Briefs did _not_ blush— under any circumstance! It was insane even toying with the idea because it would _not_ happen!

"You're right, you didn't." I stared at her as if she had just confessed how mad she was. "But you're quite flushed now that you're all worked up." She laughed when I let out another enraged primordial growl. Was she actually having _fun_ pissing me off? She knew how short-tempered I was—didn't she know not to play with fire? It gave quite nasty burns and the fires of my temper were ones you would _never_ want to truly provoke. Wait a second… we had just announced a truce after a decade of war and she dared to dance on my nerves just yet? Why I ought to… "Come on, don't be sour. It's been a while since I've had someone to really argue with." Now that she mentioned it, I too hadn't had a fight in a long time. Yet I would be damned if I informed her about that!

"You just don't know your place, do you?" I grumbled, lying on my back on the cold cement of the front of the building.

"You're right… I probably don't…"

It was just the start to an awkward half-hour utter silence…

* * *

There must be some trick to silence. There must be something that makes it so alluring, so comforting and absolute… There must be a secret to its soothing nature, a reason for it being the one thing you need when you're fed up with every one and everything.

"Vegeta! Vegeta!"

I revere silence and placidity more than anything else. It keeps me calm and stable. It prevents any mood swings on my part and provides shelter for my screwed up mind. It provided a refuge in knowing that there was no one else around, that no one was bugging me, that no one could find out how fucked up my mind actually was…

"Vegeta, come downstairs to dinner already!"

However with all this screaming my obnoxious mother was doing all my peace and quiet was quite lost. And, judging by the way this was going, she wouldn't stop any time soon if I didn't oblige with her wishes. Sometimes I can almost swear she's trying to enforce good habits upon me, as if I can't do it myself. It's not as if I _need_ her to feed me—I can feed myself with the leftovers from their dinner. Does she just _have_ to be so loud when she tries?

"About time you came down, honey. I was getting worried about you." She made one of those ridiculous expressions of hers that one can't quite place—it was something between parodied worry and slight concern. Purely ridiculous, as I already mentioned—couldn't anyone actually _tell_ her that?

"You were getting worried that I hung myself by my wire lamp? Come on, mother, you're being ludicrous and you know it."

"Oh, my…" she muttered and put a hand to her cheek. I rolled my eyes, knowing perfectly well what was coming next after such an expression on her part. I sighed heavily. Three, two, one…

"Why that is no way to talk to your mother, young man!" Father paused reading his newspaper to scorn me. I refrained from retorting to that. I knew it would only get me in deeper trouble—why waste my breath then? They didn't understand. They would _never_ understand. What was the use of trying to explain then?

"Vegeta, dear," gee, it certainly didn't take _her_ long to forget… "We need you to go buy several things from the nearest sponsoring workshop. Your father is a bit short on material and he said he's making one of his best products yet, so you have to go buy the parts he needs, okay?" He always says he's working on his best project ever and the next one always ends up being better. I'm not sure whether I should be happy for him or if I should curse him for always using _me_ to do his dirty work.

Sure, the real geniuses and celebrities never went out to do every day things and seeing Dr. Briefs in a workshop would probably be an outrage… but it wasn't as if he was constantly in the spotlight. In fact, if we have to be frank, he's one of the few people that are allowed to have their privacy and space in order to continue making people's lives easier. So—coming to the subject at hand—why was he making _me_ buy his stuff?

"Yeah, whatever…" I muttered half-heartedly, still pondering how someone as smart as my father couldn't figure out why his own son was displeased with him while my mother passed me some things. By what I cared enough to listen to, it should have been several capsules to carry the parts in as well as some money to buy them with.

Dinner we mostly spent in listening to mother raving on and on about her flowers, how much of a disaster her latest tea party had been and such of the sort, things no one really cared about.

"Bulma, honey," father stopped my sister when she intended to excuse herself from the table. "Your mother and I need to talk to you about something after supper." Bulma looked puzzled but didn't complain and waited until our parents were finished with their dinner so she could hear them out.

I, on the other hand, had better things to do, so I decided taking off right away in order to rid myself of the tedious task at hand was the best course of action. I collected everything mother had given me and made my way out.

I have no recollection of how much I had spent walking by myself. No more than ten minutes as I had passed just several blocks before a running Bulma caught up to me. I threw her a not-so-curious glance but upon seeing she was not in the mood to be interrogated didn't ask. It was none of my concern anyway—whatever they had told her was her problem and her problem alone.

"So we're going to Bardock's?" she inquired in a while, probably once her emotions had settled down.

"That's what we're doing." I'm sure I looked bored because I felt bored… I felt bored silly… bored out of my mind… and just _so_ goddamn fed up with the old man and his radical way of doing things, regardless of what kind they were! He was just so… ugh! And then they go ahead and ask me why I'm looking at my parents as if they had done me some horrible wrong! Well, they have, you know!

"Why do _we_ have to go do this when he can just send some of his robots to do it for him?"

"That's because you obviously decided it would be a good idea to tag along while I do as I have been ordered to." I glared at her from the corner of my eye. "And, no, I don't like to take orders but when it's _them_, I don't get a choice now, do I?"

"I wasn't going to comment on that…" I barely heard it as she grumbled it beneath her breath but I still caught it.

"Like hell you weren't…" I returned the favour.

"That still doesn't answer the question why you." Why, what would you know…? For the first time the two of us are on the same opinion. And namely—why the hell me?

"It's because abusing machines is no fun. Abusing your own children is much better."

She laughed at that—she actually laughed. It disturbed me… how much the sound stirred that strange thing in my chest… Was it the guilt of having tormented her up to this part of her life? I didn't know… but it made me feel awful for feeling it for some reason…

"Sounds fair enough," she deduced and took in her surroundings, giving me a chance to do so too. "Although dad didn't make me go buy parts for his inventions, mom didn't give me much rest while you were away either." There was an odd touch of sadness on her face. "They just go and order us around while they're rarely ever here… I hate that about them…"

I was a bit taken aback by her little confession. It was the first time I had heard her talking about such a powerful emotion like hate. Then again, I didn't know much about her in the first place and didn't know her to begin with, but that didn't really matter anyway…

"It's what they are. You've probably grown used to it already anyway; you just don't know it yet."

"There are some things you can never grow used to, no matter how often they repeat themselves." I would've liked to object to that… but I refrained from doing so as I would have had to exemplify my points by expressing some of my intimate and most private emotions… and although she seemed like a nice kid and there was the fact she was a sister of mine, I didn't trust her entirely. To me she was just a girl that lived in the same house—I didn't feel a bond between us of any kind – neither friendly nor a sibling one.

For I had grown used to feeling the flames of hate for the people I had a moral responsibility of loving for bringing me up. I should've felt bad for feeling that way but I had grown used to not having any conscience as well. I had grown used to the fact no one understood me and never would, or even wouldn't _try_ to understand. Was loneliness one of the things she thought was impossible to grow used to? If it was, she was wrong again.

After a huge pause dedicated to simply walking in perfect tranquil silence, she finally spoke again. "Does being away from them change anything?" From her tone of voice I could tell she was being quite serious in her question. A serious question required a serious answer so I gave it some thought. Had anything changed while I had been away?

"It makes you see everything in its true colours, I would rather say."

"So… it's a good thing?" She was biting her bottom lip, like a child who had done something wrong and didn't want to get punished.

"Since when do you think of things in terms of "good" and "bad"?" I asked with a tone of amusement in my voice. The last time I could recall using those terms was… I can't even remember that far back, but middle school had certainly taught me a few things about "good" and "bad".

"Is it?" she insisted, making me roll my eyes.

"The reason only kids use these terms is because they don't understand how abstract they actually are. It depends on what you think is "bad" and "good"." I looked at her from the corner of my eye again to see her inhaling in order to object again. "However it certainly helps you find out more about yourself. If you want to get to know yourself better there is no harm in spending a few character building months, or even a year, away from this hell hole," I added before she could scorn me again for dodging her question. She submerged in thoughts again, adopting that weird look on her face again.

"What did _you_ find out about yourself, Vegeta?" she asked all of a sudden, startling me. I stared at her as if she had just committed an unforgivable crime in front of my very eyes. I considered for an evanescent moment in time telling her about finding out how selfish I was… how stupid and conceited I was… how much of an ungrateful brat I was… how I could care less about having no conscience at all… Instead I smirked darkly to myself.

"Only bad things are what I found when I looked inside myself…" I murmured to myself.

"What? I didn't hear you…" she said with a thoughtful frown. I shook my head. It's a good thing she didn't…

"We're here," I announced as I stepped over the threshold with a large stride, leaving her behind a bit. She pouted and scurried in after me, moaning and complaining all the while,

"Come on, Vegeta, what did you find out?"

* * *

"When I raced out of home I didn't suspect this child abuse business included such bonuses," Bulma said and laughed to herself while we sat atop a hill overlooking the entire city. It was a beautiful and calming place… one of those that made you feel oddly at home and comforted you whenever you feel like you need something…

I didn't honour the statement with a retort. Instead I just stared ahead, enjoying the subtle zephyr caressing my skin.

"You know…" she began uncertainly, glancing nervously at me ever so often while she struggled with her words. "What mom and dad talked to me about was…" She fumbled with the rim of her t-shirt. "They told me about this boarding school…"

Ah, boarding school. Don't we all just love it? Or more like don't we all enjoy the precious time away from parents that it provided us with?

"They said some acquaintance of theirs, someone very reliable, told them that it was perfect for what I wanted to study… It's just a tad bit better than this town's high school but still a bit better… and…" Was I doing something wrong? Was I getting in the way somehow? Otherwise I could see no coherent reason to be so nervous around me. "They asked me to think about moving…"

"And why exactly are you worried about that?"

"I wonder…"

Her depressed face was unbearable. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"Which school are they sending you off to?" I hoped I was as good at feigning interest as I was in hiding my emotions.

"Silver High… or something like that…"

"It's a nice school." She looked weirdly at me. The fact I was a dysfunctional brother figure didn't mean I couldn't have my good moments, right? "Everyone who transferred from there was a smart person. They're just your type of people. You'll fit in in no time." I could almost visibly see her ears perking up at my words.

"My type of people, you say? And just what do you think are my type of people?" I stood up from the green grass, dusting myself off as I did so. She had to pick the most inapt thing to ask about… I had said that in a torrent—it didn't mean anything to itself. It wasn't intended as a sneer or as a compliment. She didn't need to make any sweeping generalizations about my opinion of her. Hell, I didn't _have_ an opinion about her yet—I didn't even know her, for Christ's sake!

"Let's go back to that dump. They're probably getting worried about you after you ran off on them like that." I made my way down the side of the hill with the capsules heavy in my pocket. She looked swept before jumping to her feet and following me suit unless she wanted to get lost.

"How did you know I ran out when they told me?"

"It's just the kind of vibe I get from you when you talk about it." I smirked at her over my shoulder making her flush.

While we fought for balance down the hillside, she couldn't help her curiosity. "Come on, Vegeta, tell me at least that! What kind of person do you think I am? Vegeta… Vegeta! Wait for me!"

* * *

The next few weeks were much of a blur. I didn't manage to overcome the oddness of being around Bulma… and she wasn't helping by always bringing up her depart. She just kept asking me things… weird things… unconnected things. I felt strange every time she did but she wouldn't stop even if I tried to tell her discretely that I wasn't content with her endless questioning—that consisted of cutting her mid-sentence to tell her to shut up or in slamming the door after exiting the room which she presided.

However, one day, there was no letting go.

"I'm still not sure about Silver High…" I rolled my eyes in utter annoyance. Here it went again…

"That is entirely your concern."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Don't you have your girlfriends to do that for you? I thought that was what you girls were all about when you're together."

"My friends don't really care about those things…" She looked guiltily away after that, making me sigh away some of my irritation. This girl was impossible… Couldn't she get a hint?

"What makes you think that _I_ care?"

"I don't know…" She was toying with the rim of her clothes again. Oh, no, I wouldn't be manipulated again. Not this time, sister—I was beyond that now. Who did she think she was, anyway?

"What do you want me to tell you every time you ask this? "Please, don't go"? "I want you to stay with me"? You think that our brother-sister relationship is that strong? Hell, I don't even _know_ you. What do you _want_ me to say to a complete stranger?" She stared vacuously at me with that meaningful cerulean gaze of hers. Then she stood up, gathering that book she had been writing into—her diary?—before she made her way for the door.

"I don't want you to do anything… nothing at all…"

And she left me there, to myself and my thoughts, wondering if I had gone a bit too far…

* * *

Slowly but certainly, the summer days crept to a close. The grass was slowly losing its bright greenness, the trees' leaves were adorning with different colours… and the time came for my sister to finally leave for Silver High.

It was weird how most of the time it was just one of us staying in Capsule Corporation with our parents… Maybe it was fate, I had deduced, for us never to get to know each other. And perhaps it was for the best, I had tried to assure myself. And I had believed that, until the very last moment.

"Everything's in the cab, dear," father announced and hugged and kissed her. "Have a safe trip now and be a good girl for daddy, alright?"

"Sure…" she muttered absent-mindedly. Mother was brushing her teary eyes with a napkin. It was all so uselessly melodramatic… It wasn't as if she wasn't _ever_ coming back. She was going to be back in less than a year for the next summer vacation, God damn it! They acted as if they would never see her again!

Once she was done saying her good-byes to our parents, her cobalt eyes bore into me. When our gazes met, I felt something surge through me and stab me in the chest. This time I was sure it was guilt and pity… as the subtle torment I met in her eyes could only beget such emotions. What made me feel even more uncomfortable was the fact that the reason for that grief written in her gaze was not only caused by her departing… There was another reason which I couldn't quite see… a much more important reason, a much serious reason which had reduced her to this quiet, reserved shell of her former self. Thinking that it could've probably been my fault for her being this way, another lance of guilt shot through my chest but I shook the regret off.

No! It just wasn't meant to be! We weren't supposed to be close siblings! Not now, not ever—we were just too incompatible!

Her last lingering glance my way, however, left me under a spell while she climbed in the back seat of the car and told the driver where to go.

Was this really alright…? Just leaving like this… without saying good-bye to each other…? Was it really alright being separated again before we even got to know each other? Was it really not meant to be…? Or I was just looking for a reason to pardon my awkwardness around her… and the fact that I was somehow… ashamed of speaking to her… thinking that my parents would chastise me if I tainted her purity in any way—with my words, with my views on life, with my presence… Was it really alright to hide behind false pretenses in order not to make sure whether someone so important to your family would like you or not…? Was it really okay… to be such a coward like me…?

* * *

In a yellow automobile, far away from the Breifs family now, a teenage girl sat in the back of a car, her petite body raked with sobs and her ears mute to the driver asking her if she was alright. All she could do was hiccup loudly and gasp for air while she rubbed the tears that endlessly fell from her eyes. She just couldn't stop them for some reason… she felt as if she had just lost something very precious… that as she had driven off, she had left a part of her within Capsule Corporation's walls…

Taking off her sandals, the girl pulled her knees to her body and hugged herself by her shoulders, burying her head between her knees and arms in order to stifle the wails that she couldn't help. She cried and cried until emotional emptiness was all she could recognize…

* * *

_I am _so_ terribly sorry about the lateness of this update. I was really buried with work. I hope that the length of the chapter and the contents make up for it. Next chapter I'll try to make a bit better still though. I hope someone would still read and review… I'll do my best to write the next chapter sooner. Please try to understand and don't hate me too bad for it. Thanks in advance!_

_I hope the story managed to convey Vegeta's feelings of Bulma at the current stage of their relationship. It will be a very complex thing from here on but I hope you're curious enough to stick around and find out! I promise you won't be disappointed! I mean it when I say this is the best fic I will have ever written!_


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